


Just One Kiss

by flustered_mugs



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-07 14:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15221276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flustered_mugs/pseuds/flustered_mugs
Summary: Mugman and Cuphead meet up after a while of sticking only to phone calls and letters. It's nice to be able to see his brother again ever since they both moved out and made a life for themselves.But something seems wrong with Cuphead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a little something-something for someone on tumblr!

It's times like these that make Mugman nostalgic for the olden days, and criminy he sounds and feels like some kind of elder thinking like that, but it's true. Those days where he and Cups could just up and decide to go somewhere together, or do something together, and they'd do it right then and there. Back when they were young, shiny eyed and cute, and when they would rather die than sit still.

Those days were great.

But it's not like their lives now are terrible, it's all just...terribly busy. 

Both have grown since then, just a little taller and a lot more distinct from one another. With each of them having their own job now and even living in different parts of Inkwell, hanging out just isn't as easy as it used to be. Cuphead's job at the devil's casino is busy work and there's not a day that goes by where the poor cup doesn't come home without reeking of sweat and alcohol.

Not because he's a heavy drinker by any means, but simply because....well, the casino is in Inkwell Hell, and when you're in any kind of Hell, you're bound to be surrounded by alcohol and nicotine. 

When he'd first told Mugman through the telephone that he landed himself a job in the devil's very own casino, Mugman nearly blew his (non-existent) top off. Last they dealt with The Man himself was a disaster, even if the two cup brothers won in the end. To think that Cuphead would willingly want to serve the devil after all that they went through to avoid such a fate was a little startling, to say the least.

But the job pays well, and it has exactly the kind of energetic atmosphere that Cuphead still yearns for.

Mugman meanwhile ended up working at some sleepy little dock by the seaside, spending his days hauling fish in a boat and selling them to the local markets for a profit. It's not the job he expected himself to have when he was younger, but it's enjoyable to a degree and he's sure glad he didn't land himself in some dull office job.

But with both boys working and making a life for themselves in places too far apart to walk to easily, visiting each other or meeting up to spend time together has become something of a rarity for them. 

It's upsetting, but that just makes moments like these all the more special.

Moments in which Mugman apparently gets slapped with a fish.

He turns to face his perpetrator, looking Cuphead over curiously, then eyeing the fish he holds by the tail in his gloved hands.

"Wow. Not even a shove or a yell of my name?" Cuphead muses, setting the fish back into their cooler. "Y'must get slapped with fish a lot."

The truth in that statement has Mugman laughing sheepishly as he uses the sleeve of his shirt to wipe at the remaining water and slime on his face, only to find it insufficient for the task at hand, so he reaches for the hem of his shirt altogether and clumsily wipes his face off. 

"When you spend every day at the ocean, you have to be prepared to get hit with all kinds of things. Ropes, wood, towels, and fish." He explains, his smile soft and his eyes falling shut as he allows the sounds of the trickling river to soothe him into a sense of tranquility. It's all so much gentler, much more nostalgic in comparison to the rough waves of the ocean.

"Ropes and towels, huh?" Cuphead questions, head tilting suggestively. Mugman opens his eyes just in time to catch the flicker of Cuphead's pupils moving upwards to meet his gaze. 

"Sounds kinky." He finishes, his smirk teasing. 

Self-conscious, Mugman pushes his shirt back down into place, holding it there with one hand while he reaches up to rub at the back of his neck using his free hand.

"You know well enough that's not what I meant." His words come at a murmur and the desire to pull his straw down to his mouth and nibble at the sharp circular edge of it wells up within his guts, his fingers twitching against the black fabric of his shirt as he fights to keep from giving in to his childhood fidget.

"Maybe." Cuphead elbows him, snickering as he turns back to face the expanse of the river in front of them. 

Mugman does the same, his lips pursed into a pout at his brother's demeanor towards him. But his expression is short lived and quickly swapped out for the same sense of calm that he felt before. He finds the line of Cuphead's fishing pole and follows it with his eyes until he spots the bobber floating in the water, lying relatively undisturbed and very slowly drifting in circles with the momentum that still remains from when Cuphead cast his line.

It's a delayed response, coming several minutes after Cuphead's joke, but Mugman finally chuckles into his gloved fist, looking off to the side to avoid Cuphead's raised eyebrow.

"Sorry, I'm just-..." He starts, his lips quivering as he tries and fails to fight off the smile threatening to reach his eyes. "It's just that I just now realized that you must look into some sleazy stuff to know about how ropes can be kinky."

It's Cuphead's turn to fluster now, and he may try to hide the sputter to his words with a laugh and a punch to Mugman's arm, but there's no hiding the color that rises to his cheeks.

"Well ya knew what I meant too!" His voice is higher pitched, defensive even as he tries to laugh his embarrassment off. "Clearly I'm not the only one t' look at that kinda stuff."

His accent shines through the cracks his fluster opens in his dialect; the subtle twang of a bumpkin that grew up on dirt paved roads and cottage homes, kissing in the back of schools and churches, throwing rocks at any unsuspecting passerby from up above in oak trees tall with age.

The sound of it softens Mugman's heart with nostalgia just enough to grant Cuphead reprieve from any further possible teasing and prodding at his accidental reveal. Instead he returns the punch, aiming it for Cuphead's gut. He dodges the first initial attack but, because his brother still has to hold onto the fishing pole and has now surrendered his only free hand to grab at Mugman's wrist, there's nothing he can do to defend himself from the second attack; a pinch to his side and a jab to his abdomen.

Cuphead had protested with a hiss of "Mugs, don't-!" before grabbing his wrist, but of course, like any brother would, Mugman ignored it, taking it to be nothing more than playful protesting. But then, just as he gets his hands on his brother- 

"God damn it, Mugman!"

Cuphead cries out, his words just shy of a yelp- but it's the growl behind each word that has Mugman startling. 

He freezes in his seat, his eyes wide and his mouth agape, arms suddenly limp enough that Cuphead easily and aggressively shoves them away using his free arm. Rather than getting what he had expected to be playful banter and a fit of laughter, Mugman bares witness to what seems like Cuphead's anger instead.

But why?

Mood ruined, his older brother ducks his head and turns away. His spine is rigid and he's suddenly all too focused on the bobber still floating carelessly within the waters, his lips set in a thin line.

His arm is defensively wrapped around his abdomen.

The water burbles quietly, dragonflies and restless frogs filling the silence between the two brothers with their buzzing and croaking.

Maybe they've grown past friendly pinching and tickling.

Maybe the only form of contact they should limit themselves to now are awkward hugs and friendly arm-punches.

Is....is that something they have to be careful about now that they're older? 

Mugman is a fool for not having thought about how their older age and the distance they now live from each other would have affected the boundaries they hold for one another. An awkward guilt nags at him from deep within, an apology stuck in his throat as he fumbles with his gloves. He pulls at the fingers until his glove feels close to slipping off before pulling the material back on tightly, repeating the process several times as he avoids looking at his brother at all, choosing instead to keep his head tilted downwards and facing his hands on his lap.

He's about ready to voice his apology when Cuphead intterupts him. 

"Have y' hooked up with anyone yet?" 

The question comes in a quick breath that makes it seem as if Cuphead was mulling over the question in his head several times over for a while before finally spitting it out, rather than having just thought up the question to fill the uncomfortable silence.

If his reasoning behind asking that was to simply shock Mugman into silence, then it's worked.

But it's a silence short lived, cut off by the mug's drawn out stammering.

"You either have or you haven't, Mugman." Cuphead murmurs, his form regaining it's usual slack as he looks over at his younger brother.

It's embarrassing to confess the truth about how he hasn't already formed a relationship at his ripe age, where he should have already at least found someone to bed and find intimacy with, but he does so anyways, his words rushed.

"No, I haven't really had the time or thought for it." It's a lie that he's spoken time and time again to friendly elders simply looking to have a chat with his 'sweet young man' self. He tries to cover it up by turning Cuphead's question around and redirecting it towards him. 

There's something akin to relief in Cuphead's expression, accompanied with a sigh and a shrug of his shoulders as he looks down at his shoes from where he hangs his legs over the edge of the bank they sit on, his legs just short enough to avoid getting himself wet.

"I don't know." His answer is a tired one, like he's worn himself down thinking about this. "I've been kind of busy with work and no one's really stood out to me." He toys with the ridges in the fishing pole's handle, digging his gloved fingers into the small grooves as he avoids eye contact.

"Hm." Mugman hums, leaning back on his arms and looking up towards the clouds passing by overhead. "Hollywood flicks really made romance seem like something easy, didn't they?"

The two brothers share a quiet chuckle at that, the languid tranquility resurfacing once more.

A comfortable silence settles over the two cups once more. It leaves Mugman with the room to run over his thoughts once again as he lies down the rest of the way and closes his eyes, sleep threatening to overtake him.

He misses his brother. 

Yes, they have each other right now and they'll always be able to call and exchange letters no matter how far apart from one another they may live- but he misses being able to have his brother at his side all the time.

It's hard to go from never spending a day of his life alone, to suddenly having to do everything by himself. 

His brother and he were inseperable, joined at the hip and always getting into every kind of mischief imagineable. Everything one brother had to deal with, the other would join in and they would deal with it together.

Eyes opening by a sliver, Mugman turns his head and spots his older brother. 

He's smiling even as he sighs out of the boredom that comes naturally when waiting for a fish to bite. 

It's what Mugman sees last before allowing himself to fall asleep, the sight a pleasant and comforting one. 

He misses this.

\-----

The sound of metal on metal slamming together yanks him out of his sleep, a gasp leaving him as he fears the worst; he's fallen asleep on the job.

His boss isn't anything close to a danger, and she does tend to sleep on the job herself, but he'd rather keep her impression of him a good and hard working one, rather than one that she feels she could easily replace.

Because really, anyone with the strength and arms to do so can haul nets of fish on and off of a boat.

But rather than finding himself on a the gentle sway of his captain's boat, Mugman instead finds himself on a bed of grass, looking up at a shamefaced Cuphead, his grin apologetic as he ducks his head once he finds himself spotted by his brother.

"Sorry, the lid slipped from my fingers." He explains, tapping his fingers atop their custom tackle box lid.

It's custom because it has their names scrawled across the side in permanent marker.

It takes Mugman a few moments to really take in where he is and what just happened, but when he does it's with an exhale and he slowly shakes his head, clutching his chest where his heart pounds.

"Christ, Cuphead. You really spooked me there." He laughs uncomfortably, gritting his teeth as he pushes himself up into a sitting position.

He was really nervous there for a second.

Cuphead laughs softly, picking the tackle box up and moving to grab his fishing rod from where it lies on the ground.

"Yeah, I'm real sorry Mugs. I was trying to be quiet for ya but the damn lid just up and slipped from my damn fingers."

There's that southern accent again.

He waves him off, rubbing at his eyes as he cuts his dismissive gesture short in favor of raising his hands up above his head and stretching in a way that has him groaning appreciatively. He slumps back down quickly afterwards, a drunken grin on his face as pushes his shirt back down into place and looks back over at Cuphead, who quickly looks away and towards where Mugman's parked his truck, past the thicket of the forest.

"Are we leaving then?" He asks, lazily leaning back on his arms.

"Mm. 's gettin' late and...you know. I don't want you goin' home on the train in the dark hours of the night."

Mugman snorts a laugh as he stands up, quirking a brow at both Cuphead's incredibly sudden thick accent and the concern he holds over his younger brother.

"What has you talking like our folks at home, Cups? You only ever get so thick with your words when you have a case of the stupid." He teases, flicking his brother's red nose after he's gotten himself to his feet. He moves to take the takcle box from Cuphead, along with the fishing rod and the cooler of fish. His brother starts to put up a fight, but Mugman starts walking ahead anyways, carrying everything with ease.

"In case you haven't noticed," He begins to address the second issue, grinning at how Cuphead follows after him indecisively. "I've earned myself some muscle after taking the job at the docks. Nets of fish are really heavy and it kind of all built me up." He looks over his shoulder, expression and words softening as he speaks next. "You don't have to worry about me anymore, Cuphead."

There's a flicker of something that Mugman can't place that crosses over Cuphead's face, and he works his mouth like he's trying to find the right words to say next. But they never seem to come and after a moment's silence, he shrugs and smiles, looking to the side as he pockets his hands in his shorts.

"I guess so."

But there's something still troubling him, something that he's not confessing to.

Mugman wants to ask him about it, but if his brother is still as hard-headed and stubborn as when they were kids, it's probably better that he just wait it out until Cup feels ready to talk rather than poking and prodding him for an answer.

So they walk in silence with both taking the time to appreciate the view around them, careful to avoid tripping over any tree roots or natural forest debris.

It's as Mugman starts to pick up his pace after spotting his truck that Cuphead runs ahead, shooting his younger brother a shit eating grin.

At first Mugs can only smile back in confusion, looking back to see if Cuphead knows something that he doesn't. But after seeing nothing around him and deciding that perhaps Cuphead is only trying to give him grief over who gets to sit in the driver's seat again, Mugman simply rolls his eyes in amusement and continues to walk.

But then he notices how oddly...empty his porcelain head feels.

Not only that, but something else feels off. It's only after he takes a few more steps that he realizes he doesn't hear the gentle tink-tink-tink sound of his straw hitting the side of his mug anymore.

That's really only something he ever notices when it's suddenly gone, like when you don't realize just how loud an empty room was until the air conditioning turns off and you're suddenly left with a chilling silence.

Sure enough, when he reaches up with the hand holding the fishing pole and finds himself without a straw, Mugman groans out loud.

"Cuphead!"

His assailant only laughs from afar.

It wouldn't do to get Cuphead's fishing equipment damaged because of their roughhousing, so Mugman at least takes the time to walk back to his truck and carefully get everything set in the truckbed in a way that won't break anything even while driving.

But once he gets the small door closed shut, Mugman looks to the side and quickly finds Cuphead standing innocently between two trees, blue and white striped straw held in his hands.

He takes off after him and the chase ensues.

It's one that Mugman wins fairly easily and even more surprisingly quickly, thanks to the daily exercise he gets out of his laborious job. Where Cuphead had begun to pant and slow down, Mugman was still going strong. Or at least, stronger than his brother.

So when he thinks he's as close to his brother as he's going to get, Mugman lunges after him, aiming to tackle his shorter brother to the ground.

But somehow, as if he had expected this, Cuphead manages to dodge at the last second, swerving around him and leaning his weight against a nearby tree as he watches his younger brother fall face first into the forest floor. 

Completely covered head to toe in dirt and in desperate need of a shower, Mugman pushes himself up while spitting out soil, wiping his mouth clean with the sleeve of his shirt. He stands up, and despite knowing that Cuphead was watching that whole ordeal, he doesn't hear any laughter.

Instead all he can hear is the sound of his brother's heavy breathing and groaning. He looks over, frowning as he catches sight of Cuphead's arm wrapped around his abdomen, almost hugging himself as he tries to catch his breath. Oddly enough his expression is pinched tight, looking pained.

He can't even hold his own weight. He's relying entirely on the tree to keep him up.

Jeez, just how out of shape is Cuphead?

Though, he really shouldn't judge him. The poor guy works at the Devil's casino and he must be breathing in nicotine smoke all the time. It must have really screwed over his lungs.

Considerate of his brother's current state of health, Mugman takes that their chase has reached its end and moves to take his prize without disturbing his brother, reaching towards Cuphead's hand.

He's surprised to find that Cuphead, even when weak and holding himself in pain, still has fight in him yet. It's not much of a fight but it'd be rude to ignore his brother's efforts, so Mugman politely brings his hand back to his side when his brother shakes his head and moves his hand away from Mugman's own, holding the straw to his chest.

"What is it?" He asks, eyeing the way his brother tilts his head down. He's about to speak up once more after a few minutes of silence, his concern rising with every passing second, when Cuphead finally answers.

"You can have it, but only if you give me something."

Of course there's a catch. Mugman doesn't bother hiding the way he rolls his eyes with a sigh of his brother's name, hand at his hip to express his exaggerated exasperation over his brother's conniving ways.

"Very charming, Cuphead." He sighs, fisting his hand into his pocket in search of whatever golden coins he has on him at the moment. Several coins in hand, Mugman looks up, reaching out with an enclosed fist.

But Cuphead's open palm is nowhere to be found. He's just looking up at Mugman, his lips set in a frown as he ignores the offered money.

His brother, who bet their lives for some quick cash, is refusing free money. 

That's where Mugman draws the line.

"Cuphead, you've been acting really-..."

"A kiss."

Mugman blinks.

A pregnant pause hangs between the two brothers.

Cuphead's cheeks are coloring but he's not backing down, meeting Mugman's wide eyed stare with a determined, yet apprehensive glare of his own. Like he's daring Mugman to deny or question him.

"What? What are you-...?" He starts, voice weak and trailing off before he can form a coherent sentence.

His older brother's breathing has slowed down considerably but he's still breathing fairly deeply, one arm kept wrapped around his abdomen and the other helping to keep him up against the tree.

"C'mon Mugs, you're smart." His eyes flicker to the side before he quickly corrects himself and meets Mugman's stare once more. He looks uncomfortable. "Y' give me a kiss and I'll give ya your straw. Easy peasy."

Something's off here. 

"But I thought-...?" Words fail him once more and Mugman makes a noise of mild distress as he looks down and away, lost in his thoughts as his eyebrows crease in confusion.

Hadn't Cuphead made a big deal of affection between the two of them not an hour ago while fishing? What's all of this about? Why's he asking for a kiss now?

Had Mugman somehow misread him?

Maybe he's feeling regret for denying him the earlier contact and is trying to make up for it with this, a kiss to the cheek like they used to do when they were little, when they were innocent.

Before they knew just how heavily a kiss could carry.

He wants to gently protest against this, state how he thinks they're just a little too old for something like that, and wouldn't it seem wrong?

But there's something deep, deep within Cuphead's unsteady stare that has Mugman picking up on a hidden desperation.

It makes his chest tighten with an unspoken worry.

"Okay." His answer comes in the form of a whisper.

That's what Cuphead must have wanted to hear, but that oddly distressed expression of his is still there, his eyes darting from side to side as he hangs his head low, looking for all the world like an upset puppy.

But finally, he sighs and nods, eyes closed.

"Okay." Cuphead returns, standing a little straighter now, tilting his head upwards to face Mugman. 

"Okay, alright." His brother repeats, much more quietly.

Be patient. 

Mugman has to remind himself, gnawing at his bottom lip at his brother's odd behavior. If Cuphead wants to talk about it, he'll do it when he's ready. 

So he leans down, bringing a hand up to cup the side of Cuphead's porcelain cheek. But he stops midway, remembering that he had just gotten back from fishing and it probably wouldn't do to touch his brother with his sodden gloves.

Even if his brother had no problem hitting him with a fish, but that's different.

That was brotherly play.

This is...something a little more intimate than that. A situation like this one needs to be handled a little more delicately. 

Hands kept down at his side, Mugman leans the rest of the way and closes the distance, pressing his lips to Cuphead's cheek. In the quiet of the forest, much to Mugman's slight embarrassment, the sound of his kiss is a little louder than he'd like.

Cuphead must have heard it too. He's burning up.

So Mugman saves them both face by pulling away and smiling, laughing sheepishly before giving his brother a gentle nudge to the arm.

"Alright, you got your dream kiss. Will you give me my straw back now, Cups?" He jokes, his tone lighthearted. 

Cuphead doesn't look any better than he did before the kiss.

In fact, he just looks even more upset.

"No." He answers, his words trembling even as he so clearly tries to make himself come off as serious. "I want a real kiss."

Mugman's mouth parts open in shock, a heavy weight settling deep in his guts at his brother's words. He desperately searches his older brother's face for an ounce of a joke, of humor he's trying to conceal behind a look as serious as death itself. When he finds no such thing, Mugman can only laugh in disbelief, the sound without humor.

"Cuphead, we're...we're brothers. Fully grown brothers, at that." Throat all too dry, Mugman swallows. It does nothing to help the lump in his throat, or the growing ache in his chest. "Don't you think we've moved past this?"

The sense that he's said the wrong thing weighs heavily on Mugman as he watches Cuphead's chest rises and falls with his accelerated breathing, his eyes closing shut as he looks away from his younger sibling like he's been wounded.

"Mugman." His name comes out as a plea, whispered so quietly that it could have been easily missed had Mugman not been paying extensive attention to him.

Theres an uncomfortable silence once more.

What is he supposed to do? Cuphead's got something going on but he clearly doesn't want to talk about it just yet, and maybe he never will want to, and he isn't going about dealing with it correctly either. Not to mention the way he's acting is just so...frightening.

He's never seen his brother act like this before.

"Cuphead, you're scaring me."

And he barks out a laugh, slamming a fist into the trunk of the tree behind him. Shreds of bark go flying and it has Mugman flinching away, but he's quick to step forwards when Cuphead pushes himself off and away from the tree.

"I know." 

His arm falls away from his abdomen and he shoves Mugman's straw against his chest, waiting for him to take it before he starts walking back towards the truck.

"Let's just go home so you can wash off and I'll drop you off at the train station after."

He wants to ask, by God does he want to ask so many things.

Are you okay?

What happened?

What can I do to make it feel better?

But he can't. He has to be patient, has to be careful to not push Cuphead away by prying too much.

So he follows in his brother's steps, walking to the truck and climbing into the driver's seat once they reach it.

The drive is spent in silence.

The radio can't pick up a station to play. There's only static.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mugman tries to make things better. Whether he did the right thing or not is debatable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long to get out.....my life is a...well. lets just say it doesn't have much of an opportunity for me to draw and write as much as i wish i could. but i hope you enjoy this chapter anyways!

Things aren't any better when they get back to Cuphead's place.

They arrive silently, both going their separate ways to do what they wish to most. Cuphead heads on over to the fridge, where he sets down his cooler of fish and begins to take them out one by one, taking care to wrap them in newspaper before he sets them in his freezer. Mugman, meanwhile, heads straight for the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to wash himself clean to the bone and to mull over everything that went down in the privacy only a shower can offer him right now.

It's only after he's reached the bathroom and closes the door behind him that Mugman takes notice of the tracks of mud he left behind, flinching when he realizes that he probably should have taken his shoes off at the door.

Well, it's too late now. He'll clean it up after his shower, while Cuphead is taking his own.

For now Mugman focuses on undressing, working the laces to his boots before unceremoniously shoving them off and dumping them on the floor. His clothes come next, leaving him bare and naked in the cool air of the bathroom.

Shivering as goosebumps rise on his skin, Mugman makes a beeline for the shower, quickly working out the shower handles and setting it to the hottest temperature.

While the water warms up, he makes his way to the sink, wanting to look at himself after his time out today.

Unsurprisingly, his face is covered almost entirely in a thin layer dirt. It makes him look years younger, like he's back to being his ten year old little boy self. Had his mug head been just a little shorter, looking a little more like a cup, he would have looked exactly like he did back then.

But he's older now, and even if he's only changed by a little in the years past, it's enough to easily make him appear his age.

Broader shoulders, a taller build, a slimmer mug head.

Yeah. 

He's not a kid anymore.

So why is Cuphead all of a sudden treating him like one?

Granted it's not as suffocating as it could be, but that whole thing about the kiss was just overstepping it.

Either something happened to Cuphead or the poor guy's gotten incredibly lonely. Perhaps dangerously so. 

Mugman isn't scared of his brother hurting him, he knows better than to ever think that of his older brother. No, what he's scared of is that his brother has been feeling lonesome, enough so that if he doesn't get some attention soon, he may do something drastic.

Something that could really get him hurt.

Or worse.

The mirror's fogged over in front of him, concealing his own reflection from him. It's only after he reaches a hand out to rub at the slick surface of the mirror that he realizes it's not just the fog that's impairing his vision, but the tears building up at the corners of his eyes.

Way to add on to that childish look.

He chides himself, tonguing at the inside of his cheek as he tears his gaze away from the reflective surface and instead looks towards the shower awaiting him.

The water pelts noisily against his ceramic head once he steps in. He takes care to tilt his head backwards so that the water doesn't simply fill up within his mug and leaves the rest of his body ignored, even though he knows well enough that nothing he does can keep his mug from getting filled up so long as he's not wearing a top to cover the opening.

Reaching upwards at the same time that Mugman makes a grab for the bottle of liquid dish soap, he starts his shower off by first cleaning his straw free of dirt.

\----- 

He's shutting the water off when it hits him that taking his shoes off before he entered his brother's house wasn't the only thing he forgot to do. 

Pulling the bright red shower curtains backwards and peering into the restroom like he's afraid someone else is in there with him, Mugman looks towards the toilet lid, where he usually places his clean outfit.

It's empty.

The towel rack proves to be of no help either.

Criminy, he's going to have to call for his brother for help.

Feeling even hotter than he did before in the heavy clouds of steam as he flusters, Mugman steps out and takes care not to slip on the tile floor once he leaves the plush give of Cuphead's bathroom mats. He first crouches awkwardly in front of the cabinet beneath the sink, checking for any towels there.

This too is empty.

Well. Seems he doesn't have much of a choice here, does he?

Conscious of the view his brother may have of him, Mugman hides behind the door to the bathroom as he cracks it open enough for him to speak through, calling his brother by name. A shiver runs up his spine as the chill of the rest of the house creeps within and attacks his still warm body.

"Yeah?" Cuphead calls back, sounding as if he's in the living room.

"I don't have a towel or anything to dress into!" 

There's a pause and in it Mugman can hear the sounds of the television, which he tries to focus on so he doesn't get too embarrassed by his predicament.

Sounds like Cuphead's watching some comedy skit. Maybe the all famous I Love Lucy?

A few moments go by without an answer.

"Cuphead!" He yells out, embarrassment wavering in favor of aggravation at the idea that his brother may have gotten distracted by the television.

"I-I'm coming, I'm coming!" He stammers, and Mugman can hear the telltale sound of Cuphead scrambling from where he had been presumably sitting. His approach is far from graceful. He hits himself on several things along the way, one of those things being the wall.

Mugman waits anxiously, not even daring to look out into the hallway through the crack of the open door lest he risk showing Cuphead a part of himself that he hasn't seen since they were little kids.

It's no secret when Cuphead finally reaches the door; he sighs like the effort to get up and get to his bedroom and then turn back to the bathroom was enough to strain him.

Rather than comment on any of this, Mugman hides himself well behind the bathroom door and thrusts his naked, still wet hand out into the hallway.

"Um."

There's a pause after his brother speaks up, the word sounding choked even. Confused, Mugman frowns and listens closely, wondering if his brother's health has truly deteriorated enough to leave him out of breath from such a mundane activity.

His breathing sounds shaky.

"Here." Cuphead finally speaks hurriedly, and there's a bundle of something soft thrust into Mugman's waiting hand, which he almost drops with how quickly the other shoves it into him and moves away to leave.

It's a bit rude but to be fair, Mugman wouldn't really want to talk to someone while they're naked himself either. So he shouts his thanks and pulls his hand in, shutting the door closed with his shoulder.

He's been given a soft red towel, which he finds to be surprisingly fluffy. As he unwraps the towel from it's compact shape, Mugman finds himself a t-shirt and pair of shorts that are so undoubtedly his brother's that he finds it funny. They're a dark muted red, the fabric similar to the jeans Mugman often has to wear to work. The shirt however is much softer, and when he turns it over so he can look at the front, he finds out why that is.

It's a pajama top, with a large white animal skull decorating the black front. He looks over the short sleeves and collar, snorting when he finds that those too are red.

Does his brother's wardrobe consist only of red clothes?

Just as the thought enters his mind, a balled up pair of socks falls out from within the towel.

He picks it up.

They're white. He thinks to himself that maybe he had spoken too soon, but as he undoes the ball he finds the toes and heel of the socks to be red too.

Of course.

Regardless he dries himself off and slips into the shirt, finding out too late that he's not been given any kind of underwear. He winces as he picks up the pair of jean shorts, looking over the zipper and knowing he's probably going to chafe, but it's probably better he chafe than wear his brother's underwear.

That'd be gross.

At least, he knows he should think that much. But after spending the years of his younger life sharing everything with his brother, it's a bit hard to make himself believe that something he used to do up until he turned thirteen would be so gross now if he continued to do it.

He chooses not to think about it and continues to dress himself. 

Once he's done he gathers up his dirty clothes and the damp towel and heads out into the hall, where he's immediately met with the smell of fish.

Not raw fish, but cooked, and smelling oh so good.

It's funny that he spends every day catching fish but very rarely eats any of it at home.

He's in the living room, stuffing his clothes into the luggage he brought with himself for his visit when Cuphead tosses a balled up greasy paper towel at him and tells him to go turn off the light in the bathroom.

He smiles sheepishly and tosses the paper towel into the bin on his way back to the bathroom, and as he's leaning in through the adjacent door to flick the light switch off, Mugman catches sight of himself in the mirror.

He stares himself in the mirror, cautiously turning the lights off.

Something about this is unsettling him, but he doesn't know what.

He doesn't realize what it is about the mirror that sat with him so wrongly until half an hour later when he and Cuphead are seated together on the couch, plates of fish, mashed potatoes and vegetables on their laps as they watch television. The shock hits him powerfully and he ends up almost choking, turning his head to cover his mouth into the towel draped around his shoulders as he coughs up what feels like every organ he has in his body.

As Cuphead thumps his hand on his back to help him dislodge whatever it is that's caught in his throat, Mugman squeezes his eyes closed and burns hotly. He can't help but scream internally.

The mirror was in the perfect position for Cuphead to have seen Mugman's reflection while giving him his clothes.

He's lucky that Cuphead chalks up his overly warm face to him having almost choked, and not because of the pure red hot shame and embarrassment that bubbles and churns within him.

\----- 

The drive to the train station is a comfortable one, with both brothers talking fondly with one another and sharing gentle laughs. But there's a sad tint to the air around them, with each brother a little upset to see the other one go so soon. Cuphead might think Mugman hasn't noticed, but he has, he's seen the way that with every pause or lull that may follow a conversation Cuphead would stop and stare at him. Silent. Thoughtful.

Conflicted.

It's clear that poorly concealed feeling of distress from before has yet to leave his older brother. 

Maybe he'll tell him what's wrong over letter, sometimes it's easier to have the opportunity to really think your words through before saying them to someone else. Letters are good for that.

So Mugman doesn't pry.

Not on the ride to the station.

Not when they park and Cuphead takes his luggage out for him, his hand lingering a second too long against Mugman's before he pulls away. 

And not when they walk to the station and get past the security gates and sit themselves down so they can wait for Mugman's train.

It's quiet.

There's the busy noise of people bustling around and families reuniting or bidding farewell, with many adults carrying sleeping children against their chests, their little heads lolling over their shoulder and their expressions peaceful. The distant chime of train horns and the clicking of their wheels against the railway is nice, comforting even.

But it's quiet between his brother and himself.

"I always did like riding the train as a kid." Mugman speaks, voice soft as he taps his fingers atop the handle of his luggage.

His brother scoffs.

"You were always asleep when we'd ride the train, how'd you know if you liked it or not?" He tones down his voice to match Mugman's, his words coming soft and raspy.

Mugman would have thought that the scratch to his voice was yet another symptom of the clouds of smoke he must often breathe in at the devil's casino, had he not known that his brother's voice was even scratchier as a kid.

He presses the side of his mug head against Cuphead's own, closing his eyes at the gentle clink as he leans the rest of his weight against him.

"That's how I knew." He starts, ignoring how he can smell everything they did together on Cuphead- the natural smell of the lake they had been fishing at, the lingering smoke of Cuphead's only slightly burned fish, the rich soil that the two of them had messed around in. 

His brother didn't want to take a shower until Mugman left. He's not sure why.

"The train was always so calming for me. The way it shook and rocked me kind of always lulled me to sleep, and hearing other trains blow their horn so far away was just...really nice." He finishes lamely, turning his head inwards so he can better lean into Cuphead. "Traveling as a family was always really relaxing. I hope we can do it again sometime."

"I..." He continues as he thumbs the handle to his traveling case. "I hope you and me can do more together again sometime too." 

A moment of silence passes, at first comfortable. But then it stretches on and Mugman can't help but look upwards at his brother's face, frowning as he tries to catch his facial expression.

He's turned away, his dirty gloved hand pressed tightly to his mouth. His free arm is wrapped around his abdomen and whether intentional or not, his elbow is pressing into Mugman in a way that almost feels as if he's trying to be subtle with wanting Mugman to get off of him.

It hurts.

Swallowing hard to will away the emotion that's threatening to dampen his eyes, Mugman silently moves away from Cuphead, sitting up on his own once more as he looks down at his lap.

He didn't know growing up would hurt like this. That he'd be forced to distance himself from his own brother.

Silence overtakes him as well. Not a word is spoken.

What is there to say? At a train station no less?

Mugman makes a mental note for himself to write a letter confronting Cuphead on his strange behavior, or at the very least asking if he's okay, the second he gets home.

The rest of the wait is spent in an uncomfortable silence with both brothers wallowing in their own self pity and suffering.

The intercom comes to life above their heads in a crackling static, a delightfully feminine voice announcing the time frame for which the next train to north eastern Inkwell Isle is expected to arrive.

Fifteen minutes.

Mugman gets up, luggage held tightly in one fist as he swallows down the sharp spike of anxiety and emotion that the announcement triggers within him. He moves to copy several other train goers and walk towards the safety line of the train's platform to better wait out his train's arrival when a hand to his arm stops him.

He looks down to find Cuphead looking up to him, his eyebrows pinched as he struggles between what to say and what to do, and within those fleeting eyes of his and the way Cuphead squeezes his arm, Mugman knows that they share the same worry.

'Will we be able to see each other again soon?'

He knows they'll see each other again. He's just unsure of whether it will be sooner or later. 

He offers his sentiments by placing his hand on top of Cuphead's, smiling sadly.

"Sometime again." He promises.

"I-..." Cuphead starts, his grip bordering on painful. "I need to tell you something."

Mugman's heart flutters and his eyes widen. He doesn't quite give Cuphead verbal permission to get on with it and spit it out already like he so badly wants him to, but he does turn to better face him, placing his luggage on the ground to let his brother know he has his complete undivided attention.

His brother is shaking now, both hands now holding Mugman's own so tightly that he's afraid Cuphead is going to break his fingers. Still, he doesn't dare move away.

Words seem to fail Cuphead, forcing him to look away as he scrambles through his mind in a mad search for the right way to tell Mugman what he needs to.

In an attempt to ease his nerves, Mugman reaches out with his free hand and places the soft cushion of his palm against Cuphead's cheek, stroking his thumb over the spot just below his eye.

It works for a tender moment and their eyes meet.

"You-..." Cuphead swallows once, twice, before looking away and clenching his jaw. "I think maybe..." He tries, facial features pinched as he digs his thumb into Mugman's knuckles, rubbing over the bumps like he's using his brother's hand as his own personal stress ball.

A train sounds off from the near distance and both brothers look in the general direction that it came from. Mugman can only assume it's his train.

When he looks back to his older brother, he finds him wearing a look of defeat.

"Never mind, I don't think-... it's not important." His fingers unwind from around Mugman's hand, slipping away as he moves to shove his fists into the pockets of his shorts. "Just ride safe and write me as soon as you get back home, yeah? Or call me, whichever you wanna do."

His voice is so weak.

He's trying to keep Mugman from noticing by turning his face away, tilting his head downwards and even going as far as to cover his face with his hand in a half-assed attempt at disguising it as him scratching his temple, but it's so clear to see that he looks pained.

Mugman blinks down at Cuphead and then down at the hand he still holds out from where his brother had been holding it, flexing his fingers as if it's his first time using his hand at all. He looks back at his brother, staring him down in silence.

"No."

Cuphead whips up to look at him, eyes wide. He clearly didn't expect him to say that, if he expected him to say anything at all.

"What?"

"No, I'm not going to let you get away with not telling me."

Cuphead opens his mouth, presumably to argue, but Mugman doesn't let himself linger around long enough to hear him out and instead grabs for Cuphead's arm. He yanks him to his side, pausing before grabbing his baggage in his free hand like it's an after thought as he stalks away from the train station platform and towards one of the nearby bathrooms.

"Wh-! Mugman, you're going to miss your train!" His brother protests, and yet he doesn't even try to free himself, seemingly too shocked by the turn of events to do so. His steps are clumsy and he stumbles in the rush Mugman seems to be in, not to mention that his shorter legs just can't keep up with Mugman's long strides. "What the hell's gotten into you?"

Mugman keeps his attention forward, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. His gaze is one of determination.

While he was determined to get the answers out of his older brother regardless of how, where, and whether in private or with an audience, Mugman does find a semblance of relief easing the tension in his body when he pushes the door to the bathroom open and immediately finds it empty.

To think he could have been forced to have some heart-to-heart confrontation with his brother while some guy was pissing at a urinal... 

That could have been awkward.

He lets go of his brother's arm only to turn around and lock the bathroom door behind them, turning to face Cuphead with a huff.

"Okay." He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning his weight on one leg. "Talk."

"I don't-" Cuphead tries, only to be quickly cut off by Mugman glaring at him.

"Don't pull that." Mugman barks, but at the look of Cuphead's honest confusion and helplessness, Mugman quickly finds himself sighing and softening his tone. "Look, this whole trip you've been acting so weirdly. I know you have your reasons to hide things, we're adults! I get it! I don't have to know about everything you do and we don't have to be as close as we were as kids."

He brings a hand up and presses the heel of his palm into his eye, a heavy breath of exhaustion leaving him as he closes his eyes. 

"But I can't just let you suffer in silence like this. You clearly want to tell me something, so what's keeping you?" His voice has dipped considerably in volume, and yet Mugman feels like he couldn't have spoken his next words any quieter- too loud in the echoing chambers of the bathroom he's dragged them both in even as he whispers.

"Do you just not...trust me anymore?"

He winces at just how miserable he sounds, a thick, vile sense of guilt climbing up his throat as he realizes he's selfishly made this about himself. But before he can say anything about it, to apologize or try to get back on track, Cuphead jumps almost frantically to get his words out.

"No!" Then he winces. "I mean-! Yes, of course I trust you!" He holds his head in his hands, looking torn as his eyes quickly skim the tiles of the bathroom. "I just-! I can't just tell you this stuff, I'm the older brother!" His head snaps up and he jabs his thumb into his chest, his eyes desperate as they look into Mugman's own, imploring that he take his words to heart. 

"I'm supposed to be the one dealing with the problems and making sure that you get to live easy as the little brother. I have to protect you!" He squeaks, voice laden with emotion.

"Protect me?" Disbelief shows in the way Mugman backs up and looks down at Cuphead, laughing without an ounce of humor to the sound. "I'm taller than you now, and stronger! There's nothing left to protect, Cuphead! I'm an adult, you have to realize that!" He looks off to the side, almost hysterical as he laughs once more, voice dipping low. 

"I can't believe this- you still see me as a kid."

Cuphead has his head in his hands once more when he groans miserably, almost sobbing in frustration as he claws at his head before he snaps up to full height and throws his arms out towards Mugman, gesturing wildly at him.

"Of course I do! You don't even know that age doesn't save you from the dangers out there!"

"I know how to protect myself!" Mugman argues, stepping forward in an unspoken challenge.

"Mugman, there are threats out there that you can't physically fight!" 

"That doesn't matter, you don't have to act like you have to protect me just because you're the older brother!"

"Yes I do!" Mugman would have found the way Cuphead stomps his foot as he spoke and took a step forward ironic if it weren't for the circumstances at hand. 

Instead he just meets him the rest of the way, glaring him down.

"No you don't!"

"Stop it! Everything I do, I gotta do with you in mind!" His breathing comes fast, his teeth clenched and cheeks flushed red. "Every time I think 'bout drinking myself dead, I gotta think about you and how miserable you'd be if you heard your big brother died because he drank himself stupid!" 

"Every time I think about quitting at the casino 'cause the work's dangerous, I think about how you'd just look at me with those stupid sad eyes when you hear your brother hasn't got a job anymore, and I don't want you wasting your money on me, sharing your place with me, none of it!"

Movements sharp and hurried, Cuphead yanks his shirt up. His abdomen is wrapped in bandages, stained a faint yellowish red at the front.

"This could'a happened to you! I couldn't fight it off, and you wouldn't have been able to either! No matter how tall or strong you are!"

Mugman pales, eyes wide as he stares down at the proof of his brother's injuries, no matter how concealed they may be.

"And you wanna know how this happened? How I ended up lying on the casino floor, thinking I was going to die because some skeevy bastard put a bullet in my guts?"

All too suddenly Mugman finds he's forgotten every word in the English language, his throat dry and croaky as he works his mouth open and closed. He can only stare at Cuphead.

He thinks he's going to faint. He backs up until he meets a wall, leaning against it to keep himself up. 

"I'll tell you how, and I'll tell you why."

Cuphead walks up to him and his shirt falls back into place, his fist reaching up to yank his younger brother down to his height by the collar of the very shirt that belongs to himself.

"He pulled out his gun straight outta his jacket, aimed it at me as I was walking by to give some gal and her friends their drinks, and shot me. Just like that." His eyes are mere slits, dangerous and full of a fire that Mugman can't place, not even at this close proximity.

"It took a moment. But after the shock wore off, it hurt like hell. By god, it really fucking hurt, and it still hurts now. It only happened a week ago."

Mugman's knees shake. 

"I was looking up at him, didn't even know when or how I ended up on the floor. I spilled all the drinks and was even lying in some of the broken glass, but I sure couldn't tell when it felt like the devil himself just lit my insides on fire." He laughs, cold.

"I remember wondering what I did to deserve this, and I was looking at his face to find out if I knew him. If he was some guy I pissed off long ago, or maybe just a few days ago. Maybe someone I owed money to. But he didn't look anything familiar to me." 

"Didn't get to find out until after I was let out of the hospital, but turns out the guy shot me just because he was pissed he lost all his money in a gamble."

"I-I..." Mugman whispers, his voice lost on him.

"Can you believe that?" Cuphead asks, matching Mugman's volume. "He tried to kill me, some stranger he didn't know, all over a couple a fifty's he lost."

"Just like that I thought I'd never see you again." His brother finally looks away from him, his expression one of grief. "Thought I'd never get to tell you that I love you."

Mugman tries again to speak, but he can't get anything more than a few stammers out before Cuphead is weakly shoving him away with a hand to his chest and a cruel, hateful laugh.

"Oh yeah, and there are other things that you need to worry about other than selfish bastards who are more than ready to put a bullet in you." He turns away, spotting and reaching for Mugman's luggage from where it had been dropped to the floor.

His fingers feel the equivalent of wet noodles when Cuphead shoves his baggage into his hands, and he's just barely able to keep a good enough grip on it before it can fall. Still, Mugman can't speak. He can only watch, blinking frantically as he vaguely realizes his vision's gone blurry.

"There are things like selfish brothers who feel things for their younger brother that you need to watch out for too."

"Cuphead...-" He finally gets out, sounding so much younger than before. So much weaker.

"Stop. I don't want to hear it."

With a flick of his wrist, Cuphead unlocks the door and pulls it open, eyeing Mugman expectantly as the rest of the train station is revealed to them both. He steps aside, holding the door open.

"Go."

Mugman shakes his head and holds his luggage close.

"Do not argue with me about this." Cuphead warns, voice low. "Go." 

He walks towards the bathroom entrance, blinking against the gentle winds that creep into the bathroom from the outside. The chilly night air teases at his lungs as he inhales, almost as if luring him outward with the promise of a fresher atmosphere than what the two boys created for themselves in the bathroom.

With the outside comes the possibility that they could leave behind what happened, to never speak of it outside of this random train station bathroom.

Instead he presses a hand against the door and shoves it closed, knowing that with a still healing bullet wound, Cuphead won't be able to fight against him doing so.

"Mugman."

Placing his case back down on the ground, Mugman turns to face his older brother and begins to advance on him. Cuphead looks down and to the side. He doesn't move away from where he's already leaning against the wall, but he also doesn't move to meet Mugman the rest of the way either.

Wordlessly, Mugman moves closely enough until Cuphead has nowhere left to go and they're both sharing the same breathing space. They're so close that Cuphead can't even look downwards anymore without his face brushing against the cotton material of his own pajama shirt on Mugman's body. He tilts his head back, forced to look Mugman in the eyes.

One hand pressed flatly against the wall besides Cuphead's head, Mugman leans closer, bringing his free hand to gently rest against the smooth expanse of Cuphead's cheek just like he did not ten minutes ago.

Only this time it was a lot more intimate and there was a whole other meaning behind the gesture.

As he's leaning in at a pace that could rival molasses, with both brothers meeting eye to eye, Mugman remembers somewhere in the back of his mind that neither he or Cuphead had really dated anyone lately.

That doesn't mean Cuphead hasn't maybe already kissed a few people, or had a fling or two.

But Mugman knows for a fact that he himself hasn't done any of that, and while the thought comes off as selfish, he realizes that maybe this could help him decide if he even wants to bother with anyone else.

Their lips meet, and Mugman wonders if the tingle in his lips and the warmth at his stomach comes from the kiss alone or the fact that what they're doing is wrong, oh so horribly wrong.

He wonders if this is what it feels like to make the devil proud. 

And maybe he is selfish, to have practically forced this kiss on his brother when he wanted nothing more than for him to leave and probably forget this argument ever happened, just so that he can use him as some sort of test dummy. To see if he even likes doing this kind of stuff with his brother, to see if he should stay with him or go after somebody else. 

But even though it takes a bit, Cuphead's kissing back, and when their hands start to roam over each other's bodies, feeling and pinching and exploring skin as they pull at their clothes, Mugman finds that he doesn't care.

Not really.

Besides, it kind of feels good to do something he knows he shouldn't.

He can see why his brother always had a morbid kind of desire for it all.

The adrenaline rush, the risk of getting caught, the knowledge that what they're doing is unspeakable to the public, the palpable weight of their sins.

This secret that only they can know about, that only they can share between each other in heavy breaths, whispering tongues, greedy fingers.

His brother would risk his life for him.

It's only fair that he give his soul over in turn.

And yet, his fingers still tremble.


End file.
